Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate
by a lady grinning
Summary: An alternative ending fic. After failing to solve the Labyrinth, Sarah learns that everything she thought to be true of the Labyrinth and its king is, indeed, not as it seems. SJ.
1. Prologue: Final Words of the Goblin King

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Disclaimer: Jim Henson owns everything here. Except Jareth's body. That's all mine. ::smirks:: . . . I wish. Oh, and the story's title is derived from lyrics from the song "The Maze" from the musical "The Secret Garden."  
  
Prologue: The Final Words of the Goblin King  
  
"Give me the child . . ."  
  
*What, you have the notion that reciting the lines of a play written by Yours Truly will solve you this Labyrinth? Quaint, my dear, but hardly the right path to take. But perhaps I shall play along with this little charade for a bit longer. There is, after all, one minute and forty-seven seconds left to pass before I win. And you do have that impenetrable, irresistible air of confidence about you. To crush that now would be beyond cruelty.*  
  
"Sarah . . . I have been generous up until now. But I can be cruel."  
  
Incredulity. "Generous! What have you done that's generous?"  
  
*Oh, Sarah . . . I told you not to defy me. And I know that you have not forgotten that. Have a taste of your Goblin King's wrath.*  
  
"Everything! Everything you've wanted, I have done. You asked the child be taken, I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you . . . I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn't that generous?"  
  
*A bit too obvious, perhaps?*  
  
"Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here, to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City . . . For my will is as strong as yours, and my--"  
  
"Stop. Wait. Look, Sarah. Look what I'm offering you--your dreams."  
  
" . . . And my kingdom as great . . ."  
  
"I ask for so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want."  
  
*She pauses. Do you need more rehearsals in the park, Sarah?*  
  
"Kingdom as great . . . Damn! I can never remember that line . . . !"  
  
"Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave."  
  
*No one could resist that offer. Not even you.*  
  
"Kingdom as great, kingdom as great . . . You have no power over me!"  
  
Jareth laughed as the clock began to announce the hour of thirteen.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	2. Chapter 1

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The state that Sarah was in was beyond confusion.  
  
She desperately repeated, "You--you have no power over me!'  
  
The Goblin King cocked his head, crossed his arms, and sneered, "Come now, Sarah; you and I both know how untrue that is."  
  
Sarah shook her head. "I've won! I've beaten you! H-haven't I . . . ?"  
  
Her opponent clicked his tongue. "Sarah! You're an actress! You must understand the importance of subtext."  
  
When Sarah looked even more helpless, Jareth defined for her, "Having a meaning underlying your lines. Sarah, I'm sorry to say that there was none in your most recent recitation."  
  
"But--but that's not fair!" Sarah sputtered.  
  
The King chuckled. "No, Sarah--that's not what made you lose. You lost because you lied when you said your lines. Yes, you did build up your little 'kingdom' as time progressed in my Labyrinth, and I cannot deny that our wills are equal in strength, but where power is concerned? Sarah, you know better than I of how willingly you will obey my every command."  
  
Sarah's eyes flooded with tears as she dropped to the floor; she had no appropriate reply.  
  
"And it is in this light," Jareth continued, straightening a glove, "That you will progress to the next level of this Labyrinth of yours. One change in the rules, however, is that the Labyrinth will no longer be tangible. Another is that now that you have come to the Castle, you will not be allowed to leave its premises until you have truly solved the maze."  
  
Sarah's head shot up. "But what about Toby?"  
  
Jareth laughed with sheer amusement. "Oh dear! I had forgotten the dear child. Sarah, the entire idea that the intent of your trek was to save your brother was yours. I simply created the rest of all this," he said, motioning to their surroundings. "by taking note of your interests. Your desires. It was browsing through these that allowed me to decide what fantasy to place you in after you would consume my gift."  
  
Sarah was baffled. "What?"  
  
Jareth sighed. "To answer your question, love: your brother is safe in his own bed."  
  
"Good," Sarah replied. "But what were you just saying? About the . . . the peach?"  
  
Jareth paused a moment, smiled to himself, then replied, "Sarah . . . I believe that you were told earlier this evening that things are not always what they seem in this place, and that you can't take anything for granted? Indeed, Sarah, the worm was entirely correct. But to such an acute degree, that I cannot be certain that you will understand the true meaning . . ."  
  
Sarah glared at him. "I am not a child."  
  
Jareth smirked. "Aren't you, Sarah?"  
  
A chill ran down the girl's spine.  
  
Jareth knelt down and pulled Sarah up so she might stand.  
  
"My kingdom, and all its inhabitants, are the stuff of dreams. There are goblins there, to be certain, and I am indubitably their king, but the title 'King of the Goblins' is really an extreme understatement."  
  
Jareth had to tighten her grip to ensure that Sarah would not fall over.  
  
She faintly said, "Then . . . who are you?"  
  
Jareth laughed and cheerfully exclaimed. "How rude of me! To have known you for all of thirteen hours, yet neglected to introduce myself! Really!"  
  
He bent to kiss her hand. As he did, Sarah noticed that they were no longer floating on the debris of what was once a room styled after Escher's "Relativity." They were once again in the ballroom, in the same attire they'd been in only hours before.  
  
The king rose again, and said, "I am Jareth, the King of Dreams." 


	3. Chapter 2

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Chapter 2  
  
It had happened two years before, and yet she remembered every detail like time had stopped on that day. For it really had.  
  
Sarah walks down the stairs like she does every Saturday morning: in a daze, like she's still asleep. She expects to hear Mommy singing Broadway tunes in the kitchen while she makes breakfast, and Daddy clearing his throat while he reads the newspaper in his chair in the living room.  
  
But it's quiet today.  
  
Sarah, suddenly awake, walks into the living room. Daddy isn't reading the newspaper. Daddy is staring at the wall, though he's not really looking at anything, his face glazed over. Sarah begins to call her father's name, but holds back as she notices a piece of paper on the floor by Daddy's feet. Sarah slowly picks it up, and a feeling of dread creeps over her as she reads:  
  
"I can't do this anymore. I've been pretending for so damn long, and I'm sick and tired of it. I have a life beyond you! You know that audition I had last week? It wasn't like any of the other ones. It was for the touring cast of an all-new Broadway production, and I've got a lead role! (No, I'm not going to tell you its name. You'll see my name in lights soon enough as it is.) So, as I would be leaving you soon anyway, I decided that it would be the least cruel to cut it off with you as quickly as possible, to reduce separation anxiety on your part. I don't think I'll miss this life at all.  
  
"Sarah, this is not your fault. It is mine. I shouldn't have thrown  
away my life and married your father at all. I'm sure that you'll  
have a new mother before long, and she'll do more for you than I ever  
could have. Sincerely, Linda."  
  
Sarah is somehow on her hands and knees now, gasping for breath. Daddy still hasn't moved. Neither of them will for a while.  
  
Later that day, Sarah would find a curious little play entitled "The Labyrinth" on her vanity, along with a doll that she would never pay much mind to, but constantly feel the presence of. The doll looked like Jareth.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sarah awoke with a start, her face wet.  
  
She was back in her room.  
  
Sarah sighed, wiped the tears off her face, and pulled her knees to her chest. Had it all been a dream? Sarah dismissed this idea immediately; it had only been a few hours before that she had asked herself the same thing, and found herself to be in nothing more than a crude imitation of her room in the Labyrinth's junkyard. Her suspicions rose as she noticed that many of the items in her room were missing. The print of the Escher painting was not there. Gone were the random articles that resembled her friends from the Labyrinth.  
  
Just as she noticed that the doll on the dresser was missing, as well, the man that had the doll's likeness walked through her door.  
  
Sarah jumped at his sudden entrance, but was not surprised that he was there.  
  
Jareth glanced about the room with distaste, then spoke.  
  
"I thought that you might be more comfortable in your own room."  
  
Sarah blurted, "Why is half of my stuff gone?!"  
  
Jareth blinked, as if to say, "Sarah, you ignorant girl, I am shocked that you have not figured it out yourself." He wearily replied, "Sarah, why would you need replicas of features of the Labyrinth when all you need do is go outside?"  
  
Sarah then noticed that the view from her window did not look out on the street, but on a labyrinthine garden. She groaned, fell back on her bed, and covered her head with her dinosaur pillow, remembering the new rules of this tiresome game. She heard Jareth's muffled laughter.  
  
Then, something occurred to Sarah.  
  
She abruptly sat up and said, "If you are the king of far more than just the Labyrinth, why are we still here? You did say that all this isn't real."  
  
Jareth, whose laughter had subsided, replied, "I did not. All this is very real, Sarah. It is also, however, no more than a day old."  
  
He noticed Sarah's look of confusion, so he elaborated.  
  
"The title of King of Dreams designates me with the power to grant mortals their most fantastic dreams, providing that they have a background easy enough to work within and that they ask properly. Belief in the extraordinary is a key element, as well."  
  
Jareth crossed to the chair at the vanity, turned it towards Sarah, and sat down in it, seeing that this was not going to be a short explanation.  
  
As he did so, he continued, "Keeping all this in mind, those I give dreams to are generally young children."  
  
The King paused, and smiled at Sarah.  
  
"You, however, are an exceptional case. Very rarely am I called on by people any older than the age of six."  
  
"I called for the King of the Goblins," Sarah pointed out.  
  
"Indeed you did," Jareth said. "And, as we have previously discussed, I am he. The World of Dreams is a very chaotic one. I very rarely visit it, and I only do when someone calls for me. I created the Underground for you, Sarah, and none other, from all of your dreams spinning around in this world of which I speak. As fantasies are created by what one gathers from everyday life, this is what I did for yours. Most of what you encountered was created by giving life and character to inanimate objects in your room."  
  
Sarah interjected, "Are all of the fantasies that you give to people as complicated as mine?"  
  
"Certainly not. Most of them end up back in their beds marveling over what lovely dreams they've had. You, however . . . have a task to accomplish."  
  
Sarah jumped out of her bed. "According to whom?"  
  
"According to the rules, Sarah. And as I make the rules, they are according to me."  
  
Sarah exclaimed, "Then what am I supposed to do?!"  
  
Jareth looked at Sarah incredulously, stood, and said, "Solve your Labyrinth."  
  
Sarah looked hopelessly at Jareth and said, "That hardly helps."  
"Quite frankly, Sarah," Jareth said, smiling, as he backed away towards the door. "I don't believe that I have anything to say that will. You are essentially the creator of all this. In the meantime, feel free to explore the castle. It is quite large. Your friends are most likely somewhere around here. I'll see you at supper at seven this evening, by that clock."  
  
Jareth pointed over Sarah's head.  
  
Sarah whirled around and noticed that a thirteen-hour clock was on the wall, saying that the time was currently 8:63 in the morning.  
  
"Right! And what am I to do until then?!"  
  
When there was no reply, Sarah turned around.  
  
The King was gone.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Reviews are greatly appreciated. ::wide grin:: 


	4. Chapter 3

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Author's note: Many thanks to all who review! Keep in mind, all: this *is* an S/J fic, and that rating is there for a reason. ::hint hint:: Special thanks to Scattered Logic for offering advice on the spacing. ^,^ (Yes, I'm new to Fanfiction.net, and any advice at all regarding formatting, etc., is appreciated beyond words.) Many more thanks to MaskedMaiden, as always-my constant collaborator and right hand man! mwah  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Sarah was surprised, but not entirely, to find the throne room overflowing with goblins.  
  
It had not been very difficult to find the place, as the castle itself was not as labyrinthine as one might presume it to be. The difficulty, however, lay within the fact that each section of the castle seemed to be in a world of its own, totally unaffected by whatever might be happening in any other part of the castle. This explained how Sarah did not hear the din that permeated the throne room as she approached it from a nearby corridor.  
  
When she crossed its threshold, the sudden noise was overwhelming. Sarah jumped, wondering whether the King would approve of the mischievous creatures ransacking his throne room.  
  
The goblins themselves were acting very normally, though they hardly noticed Sarah's presence. Fortunately, Sarah did not have to endure it for very long, as a streak of color abruptly flew into and around the room, barking unintelligible orders at the goblins. They ran snickering from the room, but not before hurling a disgruntled chicken in Sarah's direction. Sarah was able to dodge the bird, which gave a loud squawk then waddled after the goblins.  
  
The streak had slowed to a near stop, revealing itself to be Sir Didymus on his noble steed, still barking, "Such disrespect towards a lady! Let me not see thine brazen countenances again, thou sottish ruffians! Thou shalt not be so fortunate the next time we meet!"  
  
Sarah grinned at the sight of her friend and called, "Sir Didymus, I'm all right!"  
  
The knight promptly hopped from Ambrosius, who wagged his tail emphatically when he heard Sarah's voice, and made a sweeping bow.  
  
"Well met, my lady! I do apologize most earnestly for the actions of the King's . . . ," Sir Didymus sniffed and lifted his chin ever so slightly, " . . . court jesters. I don't see why he keeps them."  
  
Sarah giggled and said, "I'm not too bothered by them."  
  
"Well," Didymus replied shortly.  
  
"What are you doing here, Sir Didymus?" Sarah asked.  
  
The vulpine knight piped, "His Majesty hath generously bestowed upon me a new post by the castle gate, as I no longer have a bridge to guard. A pity, really. A thousand years of consented passage all gone to waste! Not to mention that the odor of my previous post was much more agreeable, but I cannot complain! 'Tis an honor to serve His Majesty wherever, whenever, however I may!"  
  
Sarah bit her lip and considered; hadn't Jareth said that the Labyrinth was only a day old? Didymus was talking as if he had been guarding the bridge for years. But maybe Jareth made this world in such a way that its inhabitants would remember life that had never existed prior to their creation? Oh well. Better play along so as not to confuse him.  
  
"But wasn't helping me solve the Labyrinth an act of treason?" Sarah asked.  
  
Sir Didymus looked offended by the very thought. "Treason?! My dear lady! Never in my life would I ever act against the King! I simply was without a job to fulfill at the time. And my lady was in great need. To ignore this would be shameful to my title as a Knight of the Winding Court!"  
  
Sarah beamed at his stout heart, and asked, "The Winding Court?"  
  
"My faction, fair maiden," he proudly replied. "And if you will follow my lead, my lady, I shall take thee to where Sirs Ludo and Hoggle now reside."  
  
Sir Didymus, atop Ambrosius, led Sarah down the long corridor adjoining that which led to Sarah's room. Their path then turned away from Sarah's room and towards two large double doors, ornately carved with designs of Celtic knots. When not lit by large panes of glass, the corridors were lit by lanterns posted on the walls containing small balls of light that bounced around in their cages, constantly changing color. Sarah noted that, while the throne room was furnished in a style that was very like the rest of the Labyrinth, this wing of the Castle was much different: its mahogany wood walls covered with tapestries and glittering stone floors provided a much less alienating environment.  
  
Sarah was in awe of the entire spectacle and, as she followed the overly talkative Sir Didymus ("Step lightly, now!" "Ambrosius, the lady is not likely to disappear if you were to simply look forward for a change!" "This wing of the Castle was added on a mere three hundred years ago . . ."), became interested in the seemingly infinite number of closed doors they passed.  
  
During a fleeting period of time in which Sir Didymus was taking a breath, Sarah asked, "Where do all these doors lead?"  
  
After hemming and hawing a bit, the knight ominously replied, "My lady, 'tis a rarity when any other than servants, guests, and the King himself wander these halls. I should imagine that these rooms are very rarely used, and that my lady would find nothing of interest within them."  
  
Sarah was doubtful of this.  
  
They soon reached the large doors at the end of the hall, which Sarah had to push open as Didymus was too small to reach them. This action disturbed Sir Didymus, as he felt that it was "unjust" for a lady to have to open a door for herself. Sarah assured him that she didn't mind.  
  
The doors led into the dining room, which was really a work of art, complete with a long wooden table with a stained glass covering, a tall backed, cushioned wooden chair with clawed feet at each end of it, and a back wall made entirely of glass. Upon closer inspection, after regaining her breath lost at first sight of the room, Sarah noticed two massive curtains attached to the glass wall which were drawn back in order to give whomever came across it a view of the gardens. Sarah then noticed that they could be looked at even more closely from a balcony branching from a door cut into the glass.  
  
"That painting was painted of His Majesty not very long ago."  
  
Sarah saw that Sir Didymus was indicating to a painting of a soaring barn owl hanging on the left-hand wall of the room. The painting was half as large as the wall it was on. Sarah thought it was beautiful, with the dark colors of the sky contrasting to the pure white of the owl. It seemed to be in constant motion, though it did not move at all. She could feel the cool wind against the back of her neck.  
  
Outwardly, Sarah cynically asked, "Why would he have a painting of himself in his own dining room?"  
  
Surprised, Sir Didymus asked, "Dost my lady dislike gazing at him?"  
  
Sarah slowly shook her head. She did not at all.  
  
The balcony outside of the glass wall had a long staircase spiraling down from it, leading directly into the garden. After Sarah followed Didymus rather slowly down the stairs (Ambrosius was afraid of heights), she immediately saw Ludo staring at a particularly vicious looking bunch of snapdragons. Sarah ran to him, calling his name. It seemed like forever since she had last seen him.  
  
"Sarah back!" Ludo declared, and hugged his friend.  
  
As she was smothered in the great beast's embrace, Sarah wondered what would come next; Ludo was hardly a conversational companion.  
  
Fortunately, not to mention appropriately, Sir Didymus came to the rescue. "If I may, sweet lady? Thou shalt find Sir Hoggle tending to the flowers somewhere. I believe he has been given a job as Castle gardener."  
  
"Ludo castle gamekeeper!" Ludo proudly announced.  
  
"In other words," Didymus quietly said. "Sir Ludo looks after the chickens and swine that are kept by the goblins in the Castle."  
  
"Good for you, Ludo!" Sarah cried happily.  
  
Sarah then proceeded to look for Hoggle while Ludo, Didymus, and Ambrosius followed. The garden consisted of bushes of strange, beautiful flowers so large that it was almost like another hedge maze. After walking for a bit, Sarah cried out, "Hoggle!"  
  
Almost immediately, there was a reply.  
  
"Sarah? 'S'at you?"  
  
"Hoggle!" Sarah called out gleefully, and began to run through the garden, trying to find a path that would lead her to where Hoggle's voice came from.  
  
Ludo lumbered behind her as fast as his legs would carry him, as Didymus spurred his mount onward.  
  
Sarah found Hoggle just around the bend, standing by a tree bearing some brightly colored pineapple-like fruits.  
  
"Sarah!" Hoggle called out in surprise, and hugged her.  
  
"Hoggle, it's so great to see you!"  
  
"Sarah . . ." Hoggle slowly said. "Didn't you win?"  
  
Sarah was taken aback; it was then that she realized how odd it was that Didymus seemed to expect that she would still be in the Labyrinth.  
  
"His Majesty didn't inform you, Sir Hoggle?" The knight asked disbelievingly.  
  
"The bastard!" Hoggle exclaimed upon hearing that Jareth was to blame.  
  
Sarah smiled to herself, glad that Hoggle was as vehement as ever, and told Hoggle of the new rules passed by the King.  
  
"So that's why Jareth moved me over here," Hoggle angrily mused.  
  
"I don't know what to do, Hoggle!" Sarah griped.  
  
"Well, my lady," Sir Didymus said, puffing out his chest. "If there is any way that we can assist thee--"  
  
"The worst part," Sarah quietly said. "Of this entire thing, is that I have to do it alone."  
  
Hoggle patted her hand. "That ain't gonna stop us from offering our help, Sarah."  
  
"Yeah," Ludo added.  
  
"I fer one," Hoggle said. "Am gonna go right up to Jareth as soon as he comes back, and I'm gonna--"  
  
Sarah's memory was jogged: the King had disappeared outside of her room.  
  
"Where is he?" Sarah said, cutting Hoggle off.  
  
Didymus replied, "Off doing business, my lady, as His Majesty does every day."  
  
Business, Sarah thought. Most likely contending with other people for whom he makes dreams.  
  
Sarah sighed; it hurt her that she couldn't tell her friends the truth about their lives. 


	5. Chapter 4

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Author's note: Finally-a chapter that has at least a PG-13 rating! (The R- rated ones are coming . . .) As always, muchas gracias to my reviewers! ::bows::  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Having brushed aside her distress, Sarah was finally able to relax with her friends, passing the time by playing with Ludo, appeasing Sir Didymus, and chatting with Hoggle. Less than an hour into their reunion, Sarah realized that she was extremely hungry. Thrilled by finding an opportunity to serve his lady, Sir Didymus quickly leapt towards the Castle. He returned a little while later followed by a goblin bearing a great picnic basket containing enough meats, cheese, and bread to last the five for an entire day.  
  
After quite a few hours of leisure in the gardens, Sarah recalled the King's parting words: that he would meet her for dinner at seven.  
  
"Do you guys have any idea about what time it is?" Sarah asked as she walked with her friends through the miniature hedge maze for the fifth time that afternoon.  
  
"Well, my lady," Sir Didymus said, trotting up to her on Ambrosius. "I do believe that, by the sun, 'tis between five and six in the evening."  
  
Sarah looked thoughtfully back towards the castle. "Maybe I should go back, then, to get ready. I have to meet Jareth for dinner."  
  
"Maybe you do," Hoggle said, and scowled. "Jareth don't like it when people're late."  
  
"All right, then," Sarah said. "See you all later!"  
  
Her friends bid her farewell, and she started back towards the stairway that led to the dining room.  
  
When she arrived there, she noticed that there was a large clock mounted on the wall to her left that announced the time of 5:16.  
  
That left just the right amount of time to get ready, Sarah nervously thought.  
  
As Sarah approached her room, the idea that she had been in the same clothing for almost two days struck her mind. And she was absolutely filthy. How on earth would she find a bathroom in such a grand place as this?  
  
As if to answer her question, Sarah heard a door open somewhere behind her. She stepped back into the hallway perpendicular to her own, discovering an open door to her left. Inside the room, she found a beautiful marble bathtub sunk into the floor filled with steaming water.  
  
Sarah was thrilled. She rapidly undressed and immersed herself in the blessed purity of the water. Sarah leaned back in the tub and closed her eyes, feeling the grime of the junkyard, the mud of the Bog, and the dust of the Labyrinth floating away. She could stay like this forever, enveloped in the warmth.  
  
But she couldn't. Jareth would be waiting.  
  
A shiver coursed through Sarah.  
  
Sarah was relieved to find a robe hanging from a hook on the back of the door. After slipping into it and gathering up her clothes, Sarah opened the door, stepped out of the bathroom--  
  
--And collided with the King himself.  
  
Jareth looked stunned but instantly regained his composure.  
  
Sarah was at a loss for words.  
  
Jareth smirked, his eyes drifting downward. Then he quickly turned and continued on his way down the hall.  
  
Sarah stood frozen at the doorway for several seconds, then rushed off to her room, feeling violated, though hardly knowing what to think.  
  
It was exactly a minute-and-a half till seven o'clock. Sarah, standing before the giant doors leading to the dining room, smoothed out her black muslin skirt, which she had found in its place in her closet. (Truthfully, Sarah had been disappointed to leave the extravagant hallway of the Castle at the Center of the Labyrinth and return to the dull room of a wistful girl. Why couldn't Jareth give her a room worthy of the rest of the Castle? He knew what her material desires were--why not make her a new one? She nearly drove herself mad, thinking of the possibilities of imaginary rooms which might have been hers.) To match the skirt, Sarah wore a white silk blouse much like the one she'd worn previously that day.  
  
She took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.  
  
The dining room was empty. Candles on the table were lit, the curtains over the glass wall were drawn, but no one was there.  
  
Sarah sighed, closed the doors behind her, and stepped into the room. She noted that the clock had not yet struck the hour of seven, and rolled her eyes; was Jareth really that obsessed with time?  
  
Sarah looked hopelessly around the room for something to tell her what to do. One thing did catch her attention: the painting on the wall was no longer of Jareth in the form of an owl, but of Jareth as a man. It was a full body portrait, and it portrayed him perfectly, from his graceful posture to his arrogant grin.  
  
A chill went through Sarah. She did not need him watching her at every moment.  
  
Sarah suddenly felt a presence directly behind her.  
  
A velvety voice from beside her right ear said, "You look simply ravishing tonight, my dear, though I did enjoy the way you looked in your robe far more."  
  
The slender body of the King swept around Sarah then faced her.  
  
"Sarah," he said, the slightest trace of a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.  
  
Sarah curtsied, head bent to obscure her blush. "Jareth."  
  
Jareth gave her a genuine smile, then crossed to the nearest end of the table to pull a chair out for her.  
  
"Please," he said, motioning to it.  
  
Sarah stiffly crossed to her seat and sat in it. Jareth pushed her chair in, his gloved fingers lightly brushing her shoulder blades. As he strode to his own seat, Sarah noticed that Jareth was wearing yet another outfit, this one consisting of a black, low-necked blouse, black gloves and boots, and tight gray pants. He looked quite nice himself, though Sarah would hardly allow herself this speculation.  
  
After sitting down, the King said, "I do hope you're hungry," and clapped his hands for service.  
  
Two slender goblins nearly as tall as Ludo walked almost gracefully into the dining room with covered silver platters in their hands. They set them lightly down in front of the King and his guest, then departed.  
  
Sarah was apprehensive about uncovering what her waiter had set down in front of her. She glanced across the table at Jareth, and saw him delicately eating from an elegant vegetable platter, with, unfortunately, no vegetables that Sarah recognized.  
  
Jareth noticed his dining partner's hesitation, and ceased eating.  
  
With a small smile on his face, he said, "Sarah, you've eaten naught but a bite of peach within the past day. Surely you must hunger?"  
  
Sarah retorted, "I actually did have a rather large lunch today in the garden."  
  
"Really," Jareth replied. "Then you must already be aware of the cooking ability that my chef possesses. Sarah, do you really believe that I would create a chef lacking in that area, goblin or no?"  
  
Sarah paused, recalling the succulent meat that she and her friends had feasted on previously that day. Then, with out a word, she uncovered the vegetables and began to eat.  
  
Jareth chuckled.  
  
After a moment of silence while the two ate, Sarah asked, "Where were you today?"  
  
The King smiled and said, "Seeing to my other duties as the King of Dreams. There are many worlds other than this one that need seeing after. You can't expect me to stay with you every minute of the day, Sarah."  
  
Sarah looked at him coldly, then, as curiosity got the best of her, asked, "Where do you usually stay?"  
  
"Wherever suits me at the time. Unfortunately, once I create a world it cannot be deleted, so there are more in existence than I like to admit to." He brightly added, "The gratifying part about it is that I have homes in many of them, each very satisfying in their own way, which gives me many options of where to operate from."  
  
He signaled for the tall goblins to remove their plates.  
  
"You don't live in all of them?"  
  
"I don't even exist in most of them, much less live there."  
  
Sarah was puzzled. "Then . . . why do you exist in this one?"  
  
Jareth smiled and softly replied, "And miss the possibility of meeting my eldest client in centuries? That would be a sorry misfortune."  
  
Sarah felt a little odd, being singled out as she was, and looked down at the table.  
  
The main course was roasted lamb, marinated in an unrecognizable sauce that, although Sarah thought of claiming to be a vegetarian simply to spite her host, had a scent so tantalizing that she couldn't help but eat more than half of the great portion she was served.  
  
After she finished, Sarah slowly said, "Jareth?"  
  
Jareth's eyes met hers, and he replied, "Sarah?"  
  
A bit uncomfortably, Sarah continued, "How . . . how did you become the King of Dreams?"  
  
Jareth looked startled for a moment, but the look soon vanished, and was replaced with the usual, cool smugness. "I was bestowed the title when the King before me was deemed unable to properly carry out his duties."  
  
Sarah wasn't satisfied. "But what were you before that?"  
  
Jareth calmly sipped his wine. "It's of little consequence. This is my life now, and there is no turning back."  
  
Sarah opened her mouth to request an elaboration, but Jareth gave her a look that dared her to cross him, and she shut it.  
  
Dessert--a warm pastry filled with assorted berries--was served. Sarah found it to be just as delicious as the rest of the meal, and quickly devoured it. Jareth watched her with amusement, taking small bites of his own dessert. When Sarah was finished, Jareth pressed his napkin lightly to his mouth, then spoke. "You will re-attempt to solve the Labyrinth tomorrow, Sarah."  
  
Sarah glared at him and said, "Oh, I will, will I?"  
  
"Yes," the King replied. "And, as I've told you, the Labyrinth will not be tangible. You can only go through it . . ." A crystal bubble floated into his hand from nowhere, and as he caught it, it turned into a peach. " . . . by using this."  
  
Sarah's stomach churned. "Ohhh no! I am not going through that again."  
  
A smirk. "Was the masquerade really so painful, Sarah?"  
  
Sarah stopped. She hadn't been thinking about that aspect of it.  
  
Deciding that avoiding the notion was the best route to take, Sarah carefully said, "I just--don't want to forget everything again."  
  
Jareth looked amused. "Don't worry yourself with that thought, Sarah; this peach will only perform the function of placing you in a Labyrinth in a dream. You will suffer no memory loss."  
  
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
The King rose from his seat, and continued, "But I warn you, Sarah: this Labyrinth will be brutal and raw in comparison to the last. All hidden lessons inside the Labyrinth last time, which you completely overlooked, will be blatant, perhaps painful to behold. And there will be no escape from them this time, Sarah. No friends to help you. And you will remain there until you have learned everything you must in order to truly solve it."  
  
As he described the new, vague horrors that Sarah would have to face, the King slowly moved towards the victim, until he was hovering over her.  
  
Sarah felt trapped in her chair.  
  
She swallowed her apprehensions, then looked into her opponent's eyes and quietly said, albeit dangerously, "If you're the one who created it, it should be a piece of cake."  
  
Jareth arched an eyebrow, cocked his head, and smiled grimly. In stealth equal to Sarah's, he uttered, "A piece of cake, Sarah?"  
  
Without warning, his arms were grasping hers. Looking at him, Sarah could never have believed that he possessed such physical strength as he was exerting upon her arms right now.  
  
Still smiling his horrible grin, Jareth lowered his head until he was eye level with the girl. "Well, Sarah . . . I would almost believe your beloved phrase, were you not as frightened of me as you are now."  
  
Sarah trembled, trying to push herself as far back from him in her chair as possible.  
  
The King continued, "And I would not believe that you were so frightened, had you sincerely told me that I hadn't any power over you--you do know that I wrote that line myself, don't you?"  
  
Sarah felt no lurch in her stomach in response to this utterly startling confession, as she might have had this conversation taken place in another time, for all the feeling in her had been sucked away by this unfathomably powerful man.  
  
Jareth lowered his voice till it was barely more than a whisper. "Even now, Sarah, you are thinking . . ." The King rapidly released Sarah's right arm and grabbed her just behind her neck, crushing her head towards his own until his mouth was buried in her neck just below her right ear. "That it was I who had the power all along, Sarah. And that is the way it will always be."  
  
Sarah was beyond rational thought now. She pushed the King of Dreams away with her free arm, causing him to stumble backwards, then pulled out of her chair, and fled from the dining hall, as if she could flee from it all.  
  
When she arrived at her room, she slammed the door and locked it behind her, then sunk to the ground sobbing, hardly even knowing why. Despair and utter helplessness had engulfed her; the thought of walking into any labyrinth ever again was impossibly far away, for she had no hope of solving her own. She was nothing but a little girl desperate for a fairy tale life, and now that she had gotten her wish, she couldn't want anything more than to have it all reversed. 


	6. Chapter 5

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Author's note: Wow . . . so many reviews. ::blushes and bows:: Thanks, everyone. And regarding this particular chapter, I owe my funky usage of the word "labyrinth" and all else involving that word when it is not capitalized to the book Labyrinths, by Sid Lonegren, which is a lovely book for she who desires to go particularly crazy in the research for her favorite movie ^,^ Go for it.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Sarah somehow found herself in bed when the light outside her painfully, comfortably familiar window was still dim. She slowly rose her head from her crumpled pillows; how did she get here? Sarah could not recall having risen from her fetal position on the floor after the previous night's . . . episode. Nor could she remember disrobing and donning her white nightgown edged in lace, worthy of an American Girl Doll. Maybe she had been so preoccupied with her stupor that she couldn't have given thought to anything else. Or had someone else . . . ?  
  
Sarah's entire body quivered with an immediate cold as the King's last, triumphant sneer echoed through her mind.  
  
She lay there for a moment before starting, remembering today's agenda. Instead of curling up all the tighter, a strange heat flooded Sarah's veins, and she abruptly quit her bed and crossed to her closet. It was vacant, with the exception of one article of clothing.  
  
It was her white medieval dress that she liked to wear to feel exceptionally close to her favorite text, as new as the day Sarah bought it.  
  
And now she was in the throne room. It was empty. (And clean, which shocked Sarah, even in her current state of ambivalence.) Without any distraction, Sarah noted, for the first time, the jester's crown carved above the King's throne. And a small smile formed on Sarah's lips--Jareth didn't take his job very seriously at all, did he?  
  
This quietly happy moment passed when the peach resting on the armchair of the throne caught Sarah's eye.  
  
Almost against her will, Sarah slowly moved toward the weapon, then took it in her hand. Another moment: this peach is perfect. Why not?  
  
While Sarah's first peach Underground had been "strange" tasting in the sense that it was alarmingly bitter and of an unripe texture, her second was sweet beyond measure, though with yet another strange taste. This, however, indicated rot. Regardless of the putrescence, Sarah could not help herself, and took another bite, and another.  
  
The throne room was ebbing away. Sarah could not feel the rest of her body.  
  
All was this taste, of ambrosia and decay.  
  
Sarah stood on the hill before the Labyrinth. The air was dead, as was the sound, and the colors Sarah saw.  
  
"It doesn't look that far," remarked someone beside Sarah.  
  
Sarah's head whipped around, and it was she. She, with the Goblin King winding around her shoulders.  
  
"It's further than you think."  
  
Then Jareth looked at Sarah as she was now, and continued, "Do not forget, Sarah: a labyrinth may have twists and turns, but there is but one way to solve it."  
  
The image was blown away by a sudden and brief gust, and all was still again.  
  
Sarah irritatedly looked back down at the maze, which frightened her now.  
  
The doors to the Labyrinth were open.  
  
Sarah was surprised to find that there was but one path to take, and it was the path to the left.  
  
"Now," Hoggle said. "Would you go left or right?"  
  
Sarah, utterly alone, looked down the new path and mouthed her answer with the alien echo: "They both look the same."  
  
She began to walk.  
  
While her first turn in her first Labyrinth consisted of a straight path that seemed as if it would never end, this first turn led Sarah on an ever-curving path, in which what she approached was unseen. She was not afraid, though a strange sensation was affecting the back of her neck.  
  
Hoggle's voice was gone, and there was utter silence. Though Sarah could hardly wait for a sign of life or change, she did not run, but slowly put one foot before the other then repeated the process.  
  
This monotonous repetition continued for a moment before Sarah noticed a gap in the stone wall she followed on her right side. Standing on a dark platform before the ends of the world were another Sarah and the Goblin King, the villain approaching the heroine slowly, seductively, while she watched confidently on. As Sarah walked around the gentle curve, she saw the King circling her, while she stood still with a small, unfaltering smile upon her lips. Sarah could not hear what was being said; it did not matter. She was going to win. That was all that mattered.  
  
And then it was gone, the wall replacing the scene, and before Sarah could think about what had happened, she heard her own voice shouting, "I can't do anything right, can I?!"  
  
The slam of a door, then, "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say!"  
  
Sarah stopped. But wasn't that who Karen was?  
  
She was running, the wall curving to the left, while she didn't mean it, but Toby was still gone. He was so far away, climbing on the ceiling. She called out his name, but he didn't care, while Jareth wept in the corner.  
  
Sarah's body slammed into the cold wall.  
  
Her entire body was bruised. Her mind was bruised. Kings don't cry. Need to sit down . . .  
  
When she opened her eyes, she was looking at herself. From her right- -her left--the strange trash lady handed her a music box. It was Sarah again, dancing around in circles, as the music played. But it was all junk!  
  
Or was it? She followed her hand, and was swept into a dance. Into Jareth's velvety arms. She felt safe and warm again, and the music was all for her.  
  
Sarah forced her eyes open. It was cold again, and the path was curving to the right once more.  
  
And then Sarah was in her room. She let out an exasperated sigh and collapsed on her bed. She turned over, and Lancelot was not in his place on the wall.  
  
She angrily cried out, "Lancelot! Someone has been in my room again! I hate that . . ."  
  
Sarah tore out of her room . . . Toby crying . . . she's talking to her mirror . . . she's wishing for the goblins to come and take you away RIGHT NOW . . . the lights won't work . . . Toby's not in bed . . . there are goblins in the room, and . . .  
  
"It's a crystal," the King of the Goblins said, as it floated fluidly along his hand. "Nothing more. But, if you turn it this way," and this way, and this way, "It will show you your dreams. But this is not a gift. For an ordinary girl. Who takes care of a screaming baby.  
  
"Do you want it?"  
  
Sarah was crying out, "But I have to get my brother back!"  
  
And suddenly the crystal was everything, Jareth had pulled her into his arms once more, and they were dancing across the ballroom.  
  
He was beautiful. His slender mouth formed the words in his song for her, and then it just came closer and closer to her own.  
  
Sarah's eyes began to close . . .  
  
"NO!" she screamed, and backed up against cold wall.  
  
She took some deep breaths, while her hands closed over her ears, shutting out the silence of the single path.  
  
After a moment of stillness, Sarah opened her eyes, unable to take it anymore, and ran along the curving path.  
  
As she ran, she passed Jareth, offering her a crystal. She saw herself taking it.  
  
Sarah hit the nearest wall, bruising her wrists.  
  
Jareth smirked as he held her possessively to his body.  
  
Sarah cried out in anguish, "That can't be the only way!'  
  
Toby's bed was empty.  
  
There was a note on the kitchen table and a doll on her vanity.  
  
"Everything's dancing."  
  
Sarah hugged her knees to herself. "But he was there every time, offering a way out."  
  
She jumped after Toby, but she landed on her feet.  
  
The cleaners were behind her, but so was the fake wall.  
  
"He never let me get hurt . . . "  
  
And this, Sarah realized, hurt more than everything else.  
  
"I was such a child," she whispered to the empty air. "But I don't need that protection anymore."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sarah ran around one curve, and another, and another. Everything was quiet, except for Sarah jubilantly telling herself again and again that he had no power over her.  
  
She ran around one last curve, and she was in the Center of the Labyrinth: a huge circle of white marble, with Jareth, the King of Dreams, standing in its center, dressed all in black.  
  
Sarah walked quickly towards him, and as she told him to give her the child, she smiled; Sarah Williams was the child.  
  
Jareth raised a gloved hand and quietly said, "No, Sarah. There is no need."  
  
Sarah stopped, taken aback, and, though she could come up with many a rash response to Jareth's statement of defeat, she could not bring herself to say one.  
  
Jareth held out a hand, and a crystal appeared in it.  
  
With a pained smile on his face, he smoothly said, "You surprise me yet again, love. Not only have you solved your Labyrinth, but you have completed it in a way that I never could have imagined to be possible.  
  
"Sarah . . . I release you."  
  
And she was in her room--Escher poster on the wall, doll on the desk.  
  
Additional author's note: Many apologies for the confusion: this story is NOT OVER, nor do I think it will be over for a while yet to come. Well, a little while anyway. Also, there is a huge chance that I will be able to update again within two weeks, so fear you not! And, erm, sorry again . . . 


	7. Chapter 6

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Author's note: My next update may not be for a while ::tears:: but I hope you are enjoying the story so far. Interesting occurences in store, and constructive criticism always taken graciously!  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Sarah slapped herself.  
  
The stinging sensation caused by her action of disbelief was commonplace, undistorted by the peach's haze. But this did not convince her.  
  
Sarah ran to the window. It looked out onto the suburban houses that it always had. That is, prior to when it looked out upon her Labyrinth. So, she was back.  
  
And she was disappointed.  
  
Sarah heard a knock on her closed door.  
  
"Sarah, are you home?"  
  
It was her father's voice.  
  
Sarah whirled around to find the time, but where her 13-hour clock had once been there now was a blank space. And her room was without a clock. Damn.  
  
"Yes," she replied, her voice hoarse.  
  
"Yes," she quietly told herself. "I'm home."  
  
When her father did not respond, Sarah figured that it had to be around midnight--that had been the time that they would be back, hadn't it?  
  
"Sarah?"  
  
She was taken aback; Hoggle did not belong in this room of hers.  
  
While Sarah's impulse was to respond, she held herself back, and searched the room for him. He was not under the bed, nor outside her window, nor, she acknowledged with interest, was he in his place as a bookend.  
  
Sarah sighed, and dropped down in the chair before her vanity. Must be wishful thinking . . .  
  
There was Hoggle, behind her bed.  
  
Her head snapped around, but she realized that he only existed within the mirror's reflection.  
  
"Hoggle?" Sarah whispered enthusiastically, peering into her mirror. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Hoggle looked bashfully down at his hands and said, "Well, just wanted to congratulate ya, Sarah, even though you shoulda won before."  
  
Sarah beamed and forgot that she was back home, where people in other rooms might hear her. "Thanks, Hoggle."  
  
"And, uh, should you need us . . . "  
  
"I know, Hoggle. I think I will."  
  
Hoggle looked a bit surprised.  
  
"Well, alright, then, Sarah. I'll let you go, then. But don't leave us hanging for too long. I'll, uh," Hoggle looked down again. "I'll miss you, Sarah."  
  
In the moment of his disappearance, Sarah felt a pang; she might miss him even more.  
  
Sarah looked down at the surface of her vanity in a moment of loneliness. She then looked about her room. Her obsession with children's stories suddenly was so mundane and desperate. Who did she think she was, a fairy tale princess? Like the one in the music box Mommy gave her?  
  
Sarah had always been Mommy's princess. She had been told that every day. Every time Mommy came back from a tour or an audition, she'd have a new doll or adornment for her. "A subject," she'd said, handing her Ludo. "For your realm of magic."  
  
As her eyes crossed over her vanity once more, Sarah thought almost regretfully of the magician King who would have been a perfect asset to her fantasyland.  
  
But he was gone, and there was a corresponding blank space on her vanity.  
  
Sarah gasped. Where was the doll? Eyes widened, pulse quickened, Sarah wondered if that was all that was gone. It had not, after all been the only thing that had appeared that day.  
  
Sarah searched the top of the vanity and its drawers for the object  
  
The script--her "Labyrinth"--was gone, as well.  
  
Sarah collapsed on the floor and buried her face in her hands; he had taken her most cherished items from her.  
  
"Damn that Jareth," Sarah murmured to herself. "Those were the last things that Mommy gave me . . . "  
  
But were they?, a small voice asked.  
  
Sarah's eyes shot open.  
  
She could remember the day her mother left like it was still happening. And when she had first woken up, when the house was uncannily silent, her vanity had been empty.  
  
Sarah knew, for her confused face had been reflected fully back at her on that morning, as she had jumped out of her bed.  
  
"But how did they get there, then?" Sarah whispered into her hands.  
  
The answer came back all too quickly in a stance, a smirk, a flapping of white wings at her window.  
  
Jareth gave them to her. He had wanted her to be his eldest client.  
  
Sarah lunged at her window and threw it open.  
  
"You--bastard!" she called to the owl, uncaring that the clock tower confirmed that it was now after midnight. "You take away the first gifts you ever gave me . . . "  
  
Her voice broke.  
  
"And the only things I can remember you by," Sarah blurted, as she crumpled to the floor.  
  
Her body was wracked with silent sobs.  
  
"I hate you . . . "  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The door slammed.  
  
"Sarah? Is that you?"  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes and leaned carelessly against the stair railing. "Yes, Karen. It's me."  
  
Karen looked murderously from her bedroom at the end of the first set of stairs.  
  
"Not only are you late again, but your school called today . . . "  
  
Sarah averted her stepmother's gaze and blocked out the torrent of admonishing words; it wasn't as if Sarah didn't know what she had been doing. She didn't need it to be spit back at her.  
  
"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
"This is serious, Sarah!" her father said, emerging from the dining room, meeting his wife's eyes. "Why haven't you been in school all week?"  
  
Sarah paused and considered. Why hadn't she been at school?  
  
"Well?" Karen prodded.  
  
Sarah looked at her stepmother's glare, her father's look of stupid concern. How could they ever understand? How could anyone?  
  
"Sarah, please, we don't know what to do with you."  
  
"Then LEAVE ME ALONE!"  
  
The emptiness of her room was hardly solace. Sarah could hear Karen's muffled threats of hiring a psychologist and her father's petty rationalizations. Let them do what they wanted. It wouldn't solve anything.  
  
Sarah looked hopelessly around her room. It was awful. There were reminders everywhere.  
  
She couldn't even look at herself. She was wearing the shirt and jeans she had worn when . . .  
  
And closing her eyes was worst of all. For all she saw was him.  
  
"Why, Jareth?!  
  
"Why did you give me so much? Why did you teach me so much?  
  
"And why the HELL," Sarah practically screamed through her clenched teeth. "Did you make an entire world for me and not let me keep it?! That doesn't even make any sense!"  
  
She waited a moment, then fell to the floor in defeat. "It's not fair."  
  
"Sarah."  
  
Her body sprung up.  
  
"I think you should owe me something for every time you say that repulsive phrase."  
  
And, suddenly, she was looking the King of Dreams in the face.  
  
Sarah stumbled back and fell into a very hard, cold chair. She realized that it was the Goblin King's throne.  
  
Jareth lunged forward and leaned against the back of the throne, his arms on either side of Sarah. She was shocked to see that he looked even more exhausted than he did during their first "final" confrontation. His face was lined, and his white blouse hung loosely from his chest, as if he didn't care enough to look presentable.  
  
Sarah wondered when the last time he'd changed clothes was . . .  
  
Jareth looked at Sarah for a long moment, his eyes searching her face for an answer. Then, he pushed himself away, and covered his face with a gloved hand.  
  
"Why did you ask me to take you back?"  
  
Sarah opened her mouth to answer, then closed it, realizing something.  
  
"I didn't."  
  
The King looked at her in dismay. Sarah looked back, just as helpless. He wouldn't send her back, would he?  
  
Fortunately, Jareth seemed unsure of what to do with even himself. He wandered towards the large, circular window at the left side of the room and perched at it, looking out upon his creation. Their creation.  
  
Slowly, cautiously, Sarah rose from the throne.  
  
"Jareth . . .? Why did you give me the doll? And the play?"  
  
Her opponent smiled to himself, but would not look at Sarah.  
  
"Sarah . . . I cannot even presume how much you are aware of anymore."  
  
A sigh. "I am the King of Dreams, Sarah." He turned to face her, an almost pained look upon his face. "I know more about human desires than one ever should be allowed to. Your dreams . . . intrigued me."  
  
Jareth paused, waiting for Sarah to interject, perhaps, but she said nothing.  
  
So he continued. "Especially as you grew older. When your mother left you, I was . . . " Jareth struggled. "Concerned, I suppose. So, I wrote you "The Labyrinth" to preoccupy you. And, as I had written myself into the story, I gave you the doll to give a face to the Goblin King, I suppose. And, yes, Sarah. My physical features are my own in your world. I believe you are the only one of my clients to ever see me as I truly appear."  
  
"How lucky," Sarah softly murmured, unsure of what she meant by it.  
  
The two were quiet for a moment, each contemplating what had been said.  
  
Sarah looked up at Jareth. He had never looked so old, or so tired. It was almost frightening to see him this way.  
  
Abruptly, the King dropped from the window. In this action, he suddenly was wearing glossy black armor with his tattered cape, and he seemed younger once more. He began to cross to the other end of the throne room, straightening a glove, then paused, and looked at Sarah. She looked back at him, surprised yet bemused. Jareth was the same as he had always been, and this was comforting, if nothing else.  
  
Jareth cocked his head and smirked. "I don't know what to do with you Sarah, and, frankly, I hardly care at the moment. I have many other dreams to see to that I have abandoned for too long.  
  
"While I am away, I sincerely hope you enjoy your world. I spent too much time on it for it all to go to waste. And--"  
  
Jareth paused, and stepped towards Sarah.  
  
"Something bothering you?" Sarah asked, trying to keep herself from smiling and attacking all at once.  
  
The King rose a gloved hand, brushed Sarah's hair from her face, then rested his hand on her cheek.  
  
"Jareth . . . " Sarah warned.  
  
He grinned, grabbed her hand, and put a crystal in it.  
  
"Sweet dreams, love."  
  
He turned into an owl and flew out the window. 


	8. Chapter 7

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning

Author's note: ::sighs:: It's been too long. But, both fortunately and not, the season is over, so I can write freely again. I expect to finish this within two months, with frequent updates (at least compared to previous waits). Many thanks to you all. Let me know what you think. Chapter 7  
  
"Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn . . . "Sarah muttered beneath her breath, a curse with each stomp down the halls towards her room. The shatter of glass and the corresponding burst of the bubble still echoed in her mind. The nerve of him . . .  
  
Just before her door she paused, contemplating how much she really wanted to go back to a near-duplicate of her old life. Sarah let out a screech of exasperation then started back to the throne room, which she would soon find to be eerily vacant once more.  
  
"I thought this was the Castle in the Goblin City," Sarah pointed out to the echoing emptiness. "So where are the goblins?!"  
  
In a fit of sudden madness, perhaps, Sarah crossed to the Goblin King's throne, turned, and addressed the room, "As the true creator of the Labyrinth, I command my subjects to come forward!"  
  
She waited, eyes closed, nails biting her palms, for an answer that she knew could not come.  
  
She threw herself backwards, emitting yet another groan, in an action far too reminiscent of her returning moment to the Labyrinth that day. She half expected to see Jareth's face looming over her when she finally opened her eyes.  
  
There was as little peace to be found here as there was at home.  
  
Sarah was then aware of another presence entering the room.  
  
"What're you doin' here, Sarah?"  
  
Her eyes flew open, and there, poking his head out from the door leading towards her room, was her safety.  
  
With some difficulty, Sarah smiled.  
  
"I'm so glad to see you, Hoggle."

* * *

As soon as it had been verified that Sarah had no interest in describing why she was back in the Labyrinth, Hoggle had enough respect to keep his mouth closed and simply walk beside Sarah as they approached the double doors leading to the dining hall.  
  
Sarah paused before crossing the threshold.  
  
After studying her face for a moment, Hoggle patted his friend's hand and said, "Don't worry, Sarah. He ain't comin' back for a while now."  
  
Sarah gave a small smile of acknowledgement and proceeded.  
  
"Maybe not for a day or two, even," Hoggle continued, as the two ventured down into the gardens. "Don't know where he goes, but he do take his time there."  
  
Sarah mused upon the King's mastery of his craft; he had even given the Labyrinth's inhabitants false memories regarding his absences when he was dealing with other worlds.  
  
"What a perfectionist," she murmured.  
  
"Wha'd you say?"  
  
Sarah paused, then said, "I don't understand him at all. What did you call him, Hoggle? Right after you jumped out of that giant gatekeeper? A rat?"  
  
Hoggle laughed. "Yeah, I guess I did."  
  
Sarah laughed with him, but she could not help but feel guilt.  
  
Damn him.

* * *

Sarah and Hoggle passed the morning by flippantly discussing whatever crossed their minds while avoiding certain topics and experimenting with the odd looking fruits of the land. Each was delicious while still possessing tastes of no fruit she had ever before tried. Once again, Sarah admired Jareth's skill and loathed herself for the sentiment.  
  
To escape the discomfort, Sarah looked wildly around the miniature hedge maze for an unfamiliar path. She found one almost immediately.  
  
"Hoggle! I found another fruit tree!"  
  
Sarah ran to it, eager for something to divert herself with and unaware of the dwarf's spoken doubts. But it now was too late, for Sarah noted that the type of fruit that grew from this tree was very recognizable, indeed.  
  
"I tried to stop ya, Sarah, but--"  
  
"It's--it's okay, Hoggle," Sarah sputtered, backing away. The scent was noxious. "I think . . . I think I'm going to go now."  
  
"Well, all right, Sarah."  
  
Sarah feverishly turned to her friend, who looked down at his feet in shame.  
  
Guilty once again, Sarah said. "I want to explore the Castle. I'm not used to it, and--I want to get lost."  
  
Hoggle looked up and said, "Sorry, Sarah."  
  
"No, Hoggle--"  
  
"I'll take you back."  
  
"Really, I'll be fine," Sarah assured him, backing towards the way they had come. "If I can solve the Labyrinth, this garden will be a piece of cake!"  
  
The two exchanged farewells as Sarah fled the peach orchard.

* * *

Somehow she found herself in the throne room again.  
  
"Wasn't this where I was supposed to solve the Labyrinth?" she asked herself, peering out the window.  
  
She turned and looked around the vacant room.  
  
"So I spent an entire day trying to find this damn place, and now I can't get away from it," she softly said to herself.  
  
Allowing her eyes to drift upon the shards of glass now bloodied by careless goblins, recalling the way it had all come about, Sarah clenched her jaw, then released it in a whisper.  
  
"You cocky, arrogant . . . URRRGH!"  
  
Sarah stormed out of the throne room and towards her own, desiring a conference with her dinosaur pillow. As she approached the door, however, she reconsidered.  
  
"Sarah, _you_ _child!_"  
  
She tore down the adjoining hallway, desperate for something to exert her rage upon, and recalled Didymus's assertion from the trip they took down it: "I should imagine that these rooms are very rarely used, and that my lady would find nothing of interest within them."  
  
"Well," Sarah scoffed, in a surge of defiance. "Let's see, you stuffed animal."  
  
She pushed through a door that looked exceptionally promising.  
  
And when Sarah saw the empty room, she was more certain than ever that she hated him. Hated his games; hated his deceptions; hated his eyes when they were steeped in sincerity.  
  
Forcing herself to breathe deeply, Sarah returned to the hallway and tried another door, praying for a room worthy of her fantastic reality but certain that it would not come.

* * *

The closer Sarah grew to the looming doors at the end of the corridor leading to the dining hall, the more hesitant and more frantic she became. A need for something new? A disgust in seeing the King's portrait? Sarah was unaware of what motivated her throwing ajar the doors one by one, but she knew that she would be safe again once she found a furnished room. Still, every one leered back at her an empty hole with blank, windowless walls. And closer still Sarah came.  
  
And then, but a few doors from those to the dining hall, Sarah found an opening. Another door, rather, behind one of those she had thrown open. It lay within a small corridor--mahogany, carpeted--with a lantern on either side of it unlike those in the main hall. These were small chandeliers, lucid fires smoldering within clusters of crystal, which, for no reason at all, made Sarah's stomach lurch. This small place was unlike the great, echoing, silent spaces that the castle comprised in every way, yet it was so familiar to her. She slowly reached for the handle (glass!), and opened it.  
  
She found herself immersed in her surroundings, with no door to be seen.  
  
Her breath was, quite literally, taken away, at the sight of her hallucination and the feeling that it was not such a hallucination after all. But it was all here, and here she was within it, though Sarah felt a little out of place. She wasn't dressed right, at all.  
  
She took a step and was shocked to hear her footfall reverberate across the floor, across the great glass dome above her head. Somewhere within her she wondered how she would ever get out, and something within her objected everything her senses detected, but something about the ballroom was so peaceful now, without so many people, and Sarah put her other foot forward.  
  
After a moment of readapting to the bubble, Sarah felt more comfortable, and walked towards the edge of the high section of the room that she was on. Her memory replaced the crowd of grotesque dancers, and she turned in repulsion. She walked towards the stairs to her right, hoping to escape the discomfort and see this truly lovely room with new eyes, but Sarah was distracted by the sensation that someone was behind her, watching her. She swiftly spun around, only to be met with her distorted reflection on the curving surface behind her. Sarah moved on once again, albeit cautiously. There had been a warm breath on her neck only a moment before, she was certain of it. As she approached the next platform, another recollection panged her mind; the clock had been here. It wasn't anymore, though. She wondered what the time was, but not really.  
  
Her foot touched the next open area, and he was there, gazing at Sarah like there was no one else in the room. Even now, so far away from that week-or-maybe-longer ago, she was poisoned. As her mind's phantasm moved toward her, Sarah took a half step back, full aware that, had she been wearing that ballgown, it would have looked terribly awkward. So she paused the memory for a moment, composed herself like a princess might, and reopened her eyes. The little princess grasped her escort's hand (startled that she only held air at first, but only momentarily) and followed his lead with the dignity of a young lady.  
  
And, yet, as he led her down the next series of steps, she betrayed her memory and looked deeper, beyond the glitter dusting his cheekbones and noticing for the first time that his eyes were different, and saw that the corners of his mouth were slightly taut. His eyes glanced down to her own mouth every so often. Sarah could hardly bear it.  
  
She was whirled to her left, then back to her right. No, Jareth--she smiled--it wasn't too much fun at all. Too fast for her, she could hardly hold on to his jacket . . .  
  
He was singing to her. Jareth was singing to Sarah. Really singing. That he would be there for her--oh--as the world falls down.  
  
And he was. But she threw him off the edge.  
  
So, to repay the generosity, Sarah didn't pay attention to the laughter and watched his face soften. Stayed when through the chiming of the clock. And when it chimed seven, maybe, she heard his echo, that she was not falling, but that someone was falling in love.  
  
And as Sarah turned, back and forth, in perfect timing with her reflection on the wall, clutching the gloved hand for dear life, someone was.

Just you wait . . .


	9. Chapter 8

Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate  
  
Written by A Lady Grinning  
  
Chapter 8  
  
When he found her, she was still dancing.  
  
.......................................................................................................  
  
It was fifth time in a row that she was reliving the serenade in its entirety (before, just the entrance onto the dance floor had sufficed). At this point, he begins singing that he'll be there for her as the world falls down, again, and, oh, how Sarah relished it now! Through her recently closed eyelids, she saw the intense, caring gaze all the clearer, and, not only could she comprehend it, she could replicate it.  
  
It was a moment, however, before Sarah understood that the light imprint left on her waist and the firmer on her right hand were occurring yet again; and, as she opened her eyes, that he was singing again.  
  
Jareth was back.  
  
For a moment, the memory replayed in every way a replica of the original (with the exception of the attire of the re-enactors), his look full of tenderness, hers of wonder . . .  
  
. . . Until the song ended.  
  
Sarah and Jareth stood, gazing into each other's eyes, scarcely understanding their own reflections within. Neither could say a word, as there were none to describe this instantaneous correspondence that flooded through them.  
  
The silence was broken by Sarah's sudden, irrational decision to close the slender gap and kiss the King of Dreams on the mouth.  
  
The explosion created was extraordinary. Immediately, when a kiss was all it began as, Sarah, still shocked at herself, was enveloped in Jareth's compelling embrace. He was holding her so close to his body (still armored) while his gloved fingers caressed her spine, and his lips caressed hers. So overwhelmed was Sarah by the King's actions, her own, and the awesome notion that she was physically tasting the Goblin King (and, God, that he was tasting her . . . ) , that her legs lost their strength and she fell forwards, all the further into the beckoning warmth.  
  
............................................................................................................  
  
The fall was not as rough as Sarah had suspected, for Jareth was now wearing a blouse of silk—far softer and, dare she think it, more yielding than the armor. Nor was it as far a fall; the two fell not to the floor but onto something higher: a bed, Sarah noticed, once she pulled lightly away from the kiss to observe their new surroundings. It was a white bed with a lace canopy drawn back, and, as Jareth's mouth now massaged her neck, causing thrills within her, nothing could look more welcoming.  
  
Feeling perfectly at ease now, Sarah released herself from Jareth's embrace only so much that she could lie back on the bed. Jareth accommodated by stretching himself on top of Sarah's body and switching his mouth's target to her collarbone and then, as she felt her clothing begin to fall away, to lower regions.  
  
Sarah had never felt such euphoria, and she allowed her King to execute yet another of his accomplished masteries (and another, and another) with full trust, never once questioning what he was doing or what it all meant; the ever-augmenting pleasure outweighed it by far. In so short a time, Sarah had grown so much, from that girl who thought a kiss was exciting into a woman who knew how the magic in the fingers and mouth of the King of Dreams could affect portions of her body which she had barely considered before. As this notion crossed her racing mind, she feared that she might have to suppress a haughty laugh at her past self but forgot it as Jareth found yet another way to make Sarah gasp.  
  
Only once, when Jareth's face returned to her eye level not for a kiss, but for a look of sheer severity and passion, did she feel any fear.  
  
But in the moment that followed, when he came inside her and a pulsing iamb was developed between them, Sarah was certain there was nothing more right in the world.  
  
............................................................................................................  
  
When it was over, their grip on each other loosened, and they tenderly held each other, utterly spent. Sarah lay within Jareth's arms, her head resting against his bare chest, and slowly breathed in accordance with him, beginning to compute what had just occurred.  
  
At some point, she realized that she had just slept with the Goblin King, and she slowly disentangled her legs from his and inched away a bit, a little frightened of the whole situation. Naturally, in this action, Sarah also realized that they both were still naked, which only made her more self-conscious, and she pulled some blanket tightly around her torso. While she forced herself to study the pattern on the comforter, she felt Jareth's searing gaze fall upon her, but she could not make herself look at him.  
  
And then she did, and saw the concern in his face. In that single look, Sarah was reminded of why it had all happened. She gave him a small smile and tentatively reaching out for his hand. Jareth brought hers up to his lips and serenely kissed it.  
  
"Sarah . . ." he murmured, gazing into her eyes. "I love you."  
  
Her insides wrung together, squeezing out her quiet response: "I love you."  
  
Placing his other arm around her, Jareth pulled Sarah to him and kissed her with newfound passion, stronger than before, yet gentler as well. Sarah could do nothing but reciprocate, slowly reaching for his face and returning her unbounded love.  
  
A moment, then Jareth broke the kiss and spoke huskily onto Sarah's still-craving mouth.  
  
"Sarah, do you know why I chose a peach as my present to you?"  
  
Sarah waited for his response, then excitedly felt Jareth's fingers slide down her stomach.  
  
"Such soft skin . . . and so tender within."  
  
She gasped.  
  
"A perfect description of you, my love."  
  
Their passions converged once more. At their ecstatic juncture, Sarah felt hot tears drop onto her face, and, in accordance with Jareth's concomitant trembling, Sarah, too, began to weep. 


End file.
